Remote Control
by HeavyMetalLoser
Summary: Someone's stuck in an institution with a shiny, new, if suspicious chip stuck in the back of their neck. Movie universe, sort of.
1. The Burning Sensation

**Chapter 1.**

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He could hear the aumbulances sirens still, even through the muffled haze of the tranquilizer darts they had pumped into him. It was so distant, wavering in and out as though he were beneath cloudy, turbulent waters. The voices of the medics and the cops phased in and out as well. He could tell the medics were yelling, but he had no idea what about. It vaguely registered that one of the arms of his actuator was drunkenly snaking through the cabin of the vehicle before he blacked out completely. At that point he was too far gone to even feel any sort of anger.

Light! He squeezed his eyes shut and attempted to bring his hands up over his face, but something stopped his arms from moving. His hands were being held down in front of him with cold, metal cuffs. The disorientation made it hard, but he soon figured out that he was lying on his stomach on a gurney.

"He's awake." he heard someone say.

Then he felt a quick sting in his neck and the world slowly turned black again.

Time had no meaning in this place, where-ever he was. He had no idea what was going on anymore, and he couldn't keep himself awake for any lengthy amount of time. His dreams began to seem a little too real, doctors would come in and ask him questions, but their words were like a foriegn language. They would shuffle him into different rooms, and as he was wheeled down the halls on the rickety gurney he could hear other voices in this place. Voices he understood.

"Mother..." came a muffled cry from his left, "Mother was a whore!"

"You hear them, everywhere," this time from the right, "They're in the walls!" the voice whispered.

He wished for the voices to go away, and bnriefly wondered how many drugs this place had injected into his system.

How long it had been since he had last regained conciousness he wasn't sure, and his grasp upon it this time was tennuous at best. They had moved him into yet another room, and the hundreds of feet of earth above him weighed down upon him like lead, and for once the inky darkness was not comforting. Without much thought he bid an actuator to survey the room around him, but the actuator did not move. With a bit of effort he slowly turned his head to look behind him. His tentacles were chained to the wall, spread out like the skeletal remains of the wings of a demon. The tranquilizers swirled about in his brain and the heavy eyelids he had been struggling to keep open clamped shut again. Something hot burned in the back of his neck, but he was swiftly being swept away from this plane of reality.

* * *

Oh no, another movie based Doc Ock fic. Man, I am starting to feel sorry for all the True Believers in this category. Someone should start a Spiderman Movie category, that would be pretty cool. Then all the comic kids wouldn't have to sift through all the stuff the movie kids pump out. Just a thought.

Oh man, if you see any spelling errors, typos, or grammatical problems that aren't clearly on purpose feel free to point it out in a review, I'd hate to leave that in there, that's just embarassing.

I think I might have cribbed that thing about his tentacles being spread out behind him like wings, too, but I don't know where from. If I accidentally absorbed it from your fic don't get too mad, alright? I'd be flattered, myself.


	2. Cumbersome

Silence. Pure silence. He had not known real quiet for years, but here it was, ringing in his ears, and screaming in his brain. He missed them, dear God, he hated to admit it, but he did miss them. Their cacophony of shrill, demanding voices, the hot buzzing in the back of his brain. How they used to keep him awake all night, working, how they used to ask him inane questions, how they encouraged him when he was causing massive destruction to the city. He missed all of it. It was so crazy, but he felt so empty without them, like a black hole was tearing his guts apart.

He was supposed to be grateful that they had silenced his voices. He was supposed to _thank them_ for replacing the inhibitor chip with a brand new, even more advanced model. An inhibitor chip they could control. In fact, they were confused as to why he was not grateful that they had '_freed_' him from the influence of the supposedly malfunctioning AI of the actuators. They had not only silenced the voices, but they had also blocked his control of the arms. He would have gotten up and paced and ranted and raved as was customary for one trapped in an institution, but the actuators in their inert state were simply too cumbersome. They dragged on the ground, grinding against the concrete floor, and would get tangled with all the other objects in the room. The other objects being the rock hard cot that he couldn't sleep on, and the cold metal sink and toilet. Dr. Octavius stretched and switched positions, trying to prevent his human limbs from falling asleep. He was not successful and the pins and needles assaulted both of his legs. _Pathetic_. He grimaced and looked at himself in the reflection of the metal door seperating him from the hallway. The fearsome Doc Ock sitting alone in an asylum cell, no shirt, and drugged and crippled. He wondered when they would at last come for him, knock him out, and remove his actuators. Soon, he feared. Then he would spend the rest of his life being studied so they could understand how they had worked.

In the meantime this silence was _killing him_! He held his aching head and rocked back and forth.

A commotion down the hall dimished the vibrant insect buzz that had been rattling about in his skull for hours. He got to his knees, and through a display of sheer determination, dragged himelf to the door of his own personal paradise. He peeked through the glass slit in the door and could barely make out a group of orderlies dragging a kicking and screaming mass of white jacket, tangled black hair, and legs.

"Someone get me something to calm her down!" one of the orderlies sounded panicked. The others wore grim facial expressions, barely keeping their hatred of the new 'patient' from bubbling to the surface. Doctor Octavius wondered what this tiny, spastic girl could have done to elicit such emotions.

A nurse skittered up while preparing a syringe full of the same fluids they had repeatedly injected him with. She stopped momentarily to push the air out of the needles, then she quickly plunged the needle deep into the patient's arm.  
The struggling continued, slowed, and then the girl finally slumped down, defeated.

Ocatvius cursed. He always hoped whenever they brought in a new prisoner that they would break free and tear ass through the hallways. It would be entertaining at the very least. If he was lucky he would get to see one of the orderlies get what was coming to them. His gaze found its way to the sad, tangled mass of metal behind him. If only they would respnd to his command, he would easily be able to burst through this metal door and take out the guards and the orderlies. He would make them pay for driving him mad with this quiet. He furrowed his brow and concentrated.

For the weeks or months he had been here he had spent half of his time doing this. He still had a lingering hope that by concentrating hard enough he would be able to break the digital spell the chip had upon the actuators. So far it hadn't worked, but it was his only hope.

A scuffling noise brought his attention back to the corridor. The orderlies were placing the new patient in the cell across from his. A burly, now dishevled orderly with sandy blonde hair turned around and glared at Octavius. Dr. Octavius stared back with cold, unfeeling eyes. The orderly averted his gaze and backed off as the rest of the nurses exited from the new girl's cell. Just before they closed and locked her door Octavius caught a glimpse of the girl who was now strapped down to a hospital bed and attached to an IV drip of some sort. Was that really necesarry, he wondered. He understood why they had kept him under so long, but surely this girl was not powerful enough to break free of this institution like he had been.

Strange.

He struggled back to his cot and threw himself down onto his stomach. The acrid odor of mildew and sweat filled his nose, and the scream of the silence returned. Somehow, hedidn't really thinkhe would never sleep again.

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Once again if you see any typing or spelling errors please do point them out, I ain't got no proofreaders, you know. You, the reader, can do all my work for me. Mm, yes, so lazy. Not that I didn't look it over myself, but you know. Only human and all that. 


End file.
